Thinking of You
by Ephemeral Lane
Summary: Josephine Harrow is unhappy about leaving her family behind to attend Sky High, but new friends and new adventures will change her outlook on life.


**Hello everyone! This is my first fan fiction. If there's anything wrong with it at all, please feel free to tell me, as I really appreciate constructive criticism. This first chapter is pretty long, but I feel like it provides a good foundation for what's to come. **

**I do not own Sky High. I only own my OC's. And Bernard!**

* * *

**Quick Epilogue**

The house was beautiful, a majestic Southern Plantation-style affair complete with a wrap-around porch. Freshly painted white with a bright red door, the faint scent of primer and new hardwood floors still lingered in the air. All of this, topped off with a soft green lawn and a white picket fence, made Josephine Harrow sick with bittersweet glee. She had always wanted to live in a house like this, having a childhood full of picture-perfect images of her brother and her enjoying an afternoon on the porch swing, her mother working her magic on food in the spacious kitchen.

Now she stood before her dream alone. Well, almost alone. Josephine's cheery bulldog Bernard noisily breathed at her side, his large eyes impatiently waiting to sniff-out the yard.

And then there was Uncle Leo.

* * *

**Chapter 1: Changes**

A month ago I was living a wonderful life. I had friends, excellent grades, a family I adored, and a bright, blissfully predictable future.

Now it wasn't perfect, as few things are. I worked long hours to pay for my schooling at the Washington Power Academy, a private school for young kids with special abilities and powers, located underground just outside of Seattle. I would come home at 8 o'clock during the school week, completely exhausted. My younger brother, Ryan, would have dinner ready, setting the table as I walked in the door. Half an hour later my mom would be home, and together we would discuss our busy day.

My mom worked three jobs, intent on having both my brother and I receive the best education possible. While I attended WPA, Ryan went to a regular private school, which was just as expensive. We both enjoyed learning, though, and sacrificed a trip to the mall with friends to work extra hours. We all chipped in, whether it was paying for school or cleaning up around our modest two-bedroom home. Sundays were our only free day, and we would split it between family and friends.

But this all came to an end with the arrival of a sleek red Corvette in our driveway one Saturday evening. Ryan and I watched as a tall man in a neat black suit slithered up to the front door and knocked three times.

"Who on Earth is that?" Ryan questioned.

"I don't know. You think we should wait for mom? She should be home and minute."

"What if he doesn't wait that long?" With that, we saw our mother's old blue Honda pull into the driveway. Still watching, we saw our mom step out of the car and cautiously walk up to the man.

"Leonard, it's been...a while," she said tentatively.

"Excellent to see you Martha. It has been some time since we last spoke. May I come in? I have something, well, rather exciting that I'd like to discuss with you."

Mother obliged, and Ryan and I soon discovered that the man, Leonard, was our father's brother.

My father passed away 14 years ago, when I was just two years old. We never talked much about; all I knew about him was that he was a sidekick who left us to fulfill his duties shortly after Ryan was born. While looking for survivors in the remains of a bombed building, the structure collapsed.

I suppose I got my "power genes", as my mother calls them, from him. Ryan had no powers, but I envied his courage and character more than any superhero.

I'm not sure what my father's power was, but I assume it wasn't like mine from what my mother had told me. I had the abilities of telepathy and empathy, the first of which had been a severe burden on my social life in the early years of my youth.

Ryan, my mother, "Uncle Leo", as he suggested we call him, and I sat at the small dinner table in our home. Uncle Leo looked greatly out of place, but seemed to take no notice.

"What brings you here, after all this time?" my mother asked. Her face looked concerned.

"Well, I've been over seas for years. Stayed there after Sam passed on. While I was in New York a week ago, I checked my old PO box. I found a letter from you, sent about 10 years ago, explaining that Josephine here had recently developed the power of telepathy."

"Oh yes, I remember sending that. What does that have to do with this little visit, though?" Mom's voice sounded oddly upset at this point.

"I've been planning to move to Maxville. Yes, yes, that Maxville. Superhero central. Now they have a wonderful high school there for talented young people such as Josey here," I cringed at the nickname. "I think it would be a smart idea for her to go there. Telepaths are rare, and Washington Power Academy is expensive and a poor excuse for a good hero school. She needs to be in a learning environment where her power will flourish, and that school just won't cut it. I'll pay for everything, so there's no need to worry about that," he said, looking around, finally seeming to take in his surroundings.

"WPA is a perfectly fine school! Since I've been there I've developed empathy as well!" I said shakily, unnerved at the thought of leaving my routine life.

"Really? I'm sure that had little to do with their teaching and more to do with your potential," Uncle Leo shrugged. "What do you think Martha? I know it's be a while, but we've known each other since we were kids, and you remember how fond I was of the kids even after Sam left. I want what's best for them, and now that I'm back in the states and ready to settle down I can do that."

I was dumbfounded. How could this all be happening? How does he just appear? My mother looked just as confused, and Ryan sat with his mouth hanging agape.

After two hours of discussion, which included loud debates and a few silent tears, we'd reached a conclusion.

Uncle Leo insisted that my mom and Ryan remain in Washington, saying that Ryan's school was an excellent institution and that he would pay for the rest of his schooling. I, however, was to leave for Maxville in just a few short weeks.

I really should have known that my mother would choose this, seeing as Maxville's famous Sky High was the best hero school in the country. She wanted what was best for me and my future, even if it meant spending my last two years of high school away from home.

"Can I at least take Bernard?" I grumbled, defeated. Bernard looked up at me sheepishly from his usual spot on the floor and snorted loudly. "I'll take that as a yes."

* * *

I sat on my new bed, staring at the blank walls before me.

"Maybe Uncle Leo will let me paint this dreary place, eh Bernard?"

He snorted in reply. Four years ago we found Bernard, a brindle Old English Bulldog, hiding in some bushes near our home after a storm. He was just a baby then, cuter than anything I'd ever seen before, and despite his now chubby stature, I still couldn't fathom how anyone would give him up.

I walked over to one of the boxes stacked against a corner and pulled out my beloved pillow. I'd had it my entire life, and it held countless memories. Returning to my bed, I hugged the pillow tightly, burying my face in it's comfy fabric. It smelled like home.

I perked my ears up and turned to the doorway as footsteps drew nearer. Uncle Leo popped his head into my room, a messy apron covered in spaghetti sauce hanging from his neck.

"Hey, ya' like your new room? We can go look around for stuff to decorate it this weekend, spruce it up a bit, make it more comfortable for you. Dinner's all set, but you come down when you're ready." He flashed another smile and started heading down the stairs.

"Let's go," I sighed, following Uncle Leo's lead and heading into the dining room with Bernard.

That night I called home, desperately needing to hear my brother's voice. He was only a year younger than me, and we'd always been close.

"Aw, you need to turn that frown upside down, sis! I'm sure the new school will be great."

I shrugged, wishing I shared his enthusiasm. "You know how awkward I am around new people."

"Look, the key to making new friends is to smile. Just smile. A lot. You'll meet people in no time, just don't worry about it. And smile," he added.

I didn't sleep well that night, my nerves constantly waking me. When morning finally lit up my room, I was completely awake, already throwing several books, pencils, and papers into my brown messenger bag. Setting it aside, I made my way to the bathroom to take a shower.

When I returned to my room, I found Bernard sleeping peacefully on my school bag. Laughing, I ran my fingers through my crazy red hair, which looked permanently disheveled. Tucking a chunk of it behind my ear, I smiled at the all the earrings that adorned it. I threw on what Ryan dubbed as my "hippie attire", carefully shooed Bernard off my bag, and made my way downstairs, tripping on the last step due to my old brown flip-flops.

The plan was that Uncle Leo would take me to school early to get everything settled, making it easier to get along with the day.

As we drove down the street in the fancy Corvette, Uncle Leo suddenly said, "Here we are, buckle up!" Confused, I started to ask what he meant, when I felt the car jerk and speed up. Before I knew it, we were up in the air, and I scrambled to throw my seat belt on.

Five minutes later my fingers were sore from gripping to the car door, and in the distance I saw a large block of land floating in the air.

"There it is, Sky High!" Uncle Leo shouted, the wind distorting the sound. Funny, calling it Sky High. Funny in a demented, evil sort of way.

When we landed I threw the door open and fell to the ground.

"Why did you not warn me about that?" I said, my stomach woozy.

"Well, uh, it's called Sky High. I thought you'd get the pun."

We arrived in the front office, the secretary handing us loads of papers to fill out.

"Coach Boomer will be here in a few minutes to power place you," she said, typing wildly at her computer. Right on cue, a tall man walked through the door, clipboard in hand.

"This the new student?" he asked loudly, glancing at me.

"Yes," the secretary replied simply, still busy at her computer.

"Okay. Ms. Harrow? Can you demonstrate your powers for me. We need to determine whether you'll take the hero courses or sidekick courses."

'Flawed system, much?' I thought sarcastically. I sighed and let down the wall in my mind, opening myself up to the thoughts of others.

_"I should have eaten a better breakfast. A box of doughnuts sounds great right about now. Maybe if I wait in the teacher's lounge someone will bring some. Ahhh, Save the Citizen today. Who will I torture this time. Mwahahahaha." _I listened to Coach Boomer's thoughts, trying hard not to laugh at the last bit, especially the cheesy maniacal laugh.

"You're thinking about breakfast, doughnuts in particular. You're also thinking about who you will, and I quote, torture in," I stumbled over the words, unsure of what I was talking about, "Save the Citizen?"

Coach Boomer's face turned red, the secretary giving him a dirty look.

"Well, uhm, is that all? For your powers, I mean," he said, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"Not quite, I'm also an empath."

"Oh well, that's good. You're records say you have a lot of control over your powers. We'll just leave it at that. Hero!"

Coach Boomer hand a piece of paper to the secretary and rushed out of the office as if he had super speed. I waited a while longer, only speaking to say goodbye to Uncle Leo.

"See you later, kid, Good luck today!"

"Yeah, see ya'", was my feeble reply.

When I finally walked out of the office with my schedule, students were starting to arrive. I walked around, unsure of where to go or what to do. People had started talking about "the new kid", both out loud and in their minds.

Instead of saying anything, I built up my mental walls and studied my schedule.

* * *

Warren's POV

I practically ran off of the cramped school bus, eager to start the day ahead only to get it over with as soon as possible. I made my way quietly through the crowd of students, ignoring the fearful glances in my direction. But out of the corner of my eye, I saw a girl standing off to the side of the steps. And for some reason, I stopped and stared.

She was new, it was obvious. Her small frame was hunched and pulled together, giving the impression that she was trying to squish herself invisible. She had milky skin and delicate facial features, framed by vivid red hair, cut into a longer-in-the-front, short-in-the-back pixie. The taupe bohemian dress she wore flowed around her tiny body with each gust of wind that unmercifully blew through the schoolyard.

Something about her was...different. She seemed to be purposefully avoiding other students, which was uncharacteristic of most teenagers. Another bout of wind blew about her long dress, and she shivered with cold. I felt a strange urge to walk over and keep her warm.

Suddenly the first bell rang, waking me from my private trance. I ran inside the building, heading towards my first class.

* * *

The tardy bell rang as I turned a corner, quickly trying to remember where my first class was located. Despite arriving early, I would still manage to show up late, which would inevitably set the tone for an unpleasant school year in my first period class, Mad Science III.

At last I spotted the correct room number and quickly made my way to the door. I turned the handle and pulled, and then sighed heavily when I realized the door was locked. 'Great, now I'll have to knock, really interrupting the class and ticking off the teacher,' I thought. I gently tried to tap the door, getting the teacher's attention and receiving a thoroughly aggravated look.

The teacher, who had an exceptionally large head, stared at me for a second, coughed, and then said, "And you are?"

"Oh, um, I'm the new student. Josephine Harrow. I had a bit of trouble finding the classroom, the campus is so big and..."

"Yes yes," he said, cutting me off. "We're already well into the curriculum for this semester, you'll have a lot of catching up to do. The class is also separated into lab partners as well, so you'll have no choice in who you're working with. You'll just have to go with it."

I quickly glanced around the class, trying to find an empty seat. Avoiding the curious eyes of most of the students, I finally spotted the only free seat. Next to it sat a boy in a black leather jacket, who seemed to be the only person completely uninterested in my arrival.

"Ms. Harrow, you'll be partnered up with Mr. Peace. Just right over there," the teacher said, pointing to the spare chair. "Raise your hand Warren. Okay, okay, _don't_," he added as Warren turned to glare at him. "I'll have all of your make-up work ready by the end of the day, so stop by after school. By the way, my name is Mr. Medulla. Now sit, sit. And all of you behave while I step out of the class for a moment."

Mr. Medulla walked out the door, his bulgy head bobbing along with him, and I was left standing in front of the class alone.

Trying to muster up the grace to not fall, trip, or shuffle across the classroom, I silently walked over to my new seat.

The class was set up with large tables, one for each pair of partners, with two chairs for each student on one side of the table. Most of the partners were huddled together, whispering about the assignment they'd been given before I arrived, some of them rolling their eyes while erasing whole answers or nodding their heads in agreement and hurriedly writing on the sheet of paper.

As I sat down next to the boy named Warren, he noticeably sunk down further in his chair.

_"I really don't need a lab partner, I'm doing just fine on my own," _said a deep, brooding voice. I looked at the boy next to me; he seemed to be in the exact same position, still quiet and hunched. _"What's the point of lab partners anyway? It's not like we get our work done faster. All the talking and fooling around only makes this last longer, and..."_

I must have looked really strange just then, knotting my eyebrows together in confusion as the deep voice once again penetrated my thoughts. 'Is that him?' I wondered.

Over the years I had developed a good amount of control over my telepathy, and the loud, senseless mind-jabber that plagued large crowds became a distant buzz of voices in the back of my head. I didn't particularly enjoy listening in on other people's thoughts, so I gladly, and easily, ignored them.

But my inner wall of thought resistance had never been breached like this, and for the next ten minutes Warren and I sat in outward silence. He was thinking about how obnoxious the two giggling girls in front of us were being, and I was trying to build new walls in my head to block him out.

"So loud," I mumbled, pinching the bridge of my nose. Warren slightly tilted his head in my direction, keeping his eyes focused on his black-gloved hand.

"No shit."

'He must think I'm talking about them,' I thought, putting up a final mental wall, blocking out the bulk of what his mind had to say. He was still a bit louder than the other students, but I was beginning to develop a major headache and was satisfied for the time being.

"Okay, students, back to work now!" shouted Mr. Medulla as he reentered the classroom with a large stack of papers in his arms. I desperately hoped that it wasn't all for me.

Warren shifted beside me, and then moved the sheet of paper everyone was working on to the middle of the table.

"I finished it," he grumbled. I reached out to bring the paper closer to me, intending to look it over. I still had no idea what we were working on. As I did so, Warren's hand slightly brushed against mine.

"Ow!" I squeaked, quickly bringing my hand to my mouth. When our hands touched, I felt a quick spark of pain flash through my finger. He'd burnt me!

He looked sort of shocked, his mouth opening and then closing. In the back of my mind, I heard him think, _"No, no. Dammit. Sorry." _He actually mouthed the sorry, so subtly that I almost missed it.

'What was that?' I wondered, and then carefully reached over for the paper once more. This time I succeeded in grabbing it unharmed. I looked it over.

Apparently the class was working on common poisons used in supervillain attacks. Warren's work was very thorough, with mildly sloppy handwriting, though still neatly done. I'd worked on the same subject my last week at Washington Power Academy, the information still fresh.

"You did a really good job," I said quietly, looking up at the tall boy sitting next to me. He finally turned to look at me, his eyes gazing into my own.

'Wow.'


End file.
